Their eyes darted back and forth across the room. One would mutter something foul when he met the other's eyes. In reply to the insult, he would roll his eyes and go back to his work. Freud sat in the back of the grandiose class room and watched Shiro and Mozart exchange looks for the past ten minutes. He had just finished his test on the psychosexual studies of his Original and found some pleasure in this silent bickering.

Freud bit his lip slightly to keep himself from smiling at the sight before him. Shiro was finally absorbed into his test. Mozart's eyes darted to him, watched him for a brief second before returning to his test on his Original's musical history. A mere second later, the clone of the praised composer turned his head fully in Shiro's direction. Mozart's gaze was no longer that of annoyance or anger. His face was softer, sympathetic and, dare say, loving.

This interested Freud. The clone leaned in forward, his chin resting on the loosely folded fist. The whole school knew well of Mozart's dislike and hatred for the only non-clone of St. Kelio Academy. This sudden affectionate look would be bizarre and unnatural to the other students, but full of mystery and excitement for Freud.

Shiro perked up when he heard a voice call from behind. His head turned slightly for him to be able to seen Freud gliding in. One of Shiro's eyebrows rose at the strange look on Freud's face. "Freud?" he asked, once the clone was walking by his side and at his pace, "Why are you smiling? Its kind of creeping me out."

This only caused the normally stoic young man's smile to grow wider.

"Why, I just had a great discovery." He stated, his eyes glued on to Shiro.

Shiro smiled uncomfortably at his friend. "What do you mean by that?" He prayed that this discovery didn't have to do anything with him. Freud had already labeled him with "daddy issues" and he didn't want to earn another psychological label.

A deep chuckle sounded from Freud's throat. "I mean that there seems to be some tension between you and a certain composer."

Shiro was bewildered at first, but a moment later it struck him. He came to halt and froze his eyes wide and fist clenched. Freud found this reaction amusing. Shiro quickly snapped out of his state of shock and stormed past Freud, his head buried in his chest. "Don't you say that? Why the hell would I have any other feelings toward Mozart besides dislike?" Shiro stated as he spun on his heel. He turned to face Freud, his face red and his body tense. "Mozart is a complete asshole. Why would I even have any thought about him that is...you know?" His fingers ran through his hair as he grunted.

Freud bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Denial. It's called denial." The psychologist said.

"Denial? Denial my ass! I have no feelings toward him, Freud. Can you stop with this psycho-whatever-you-call-it?" He turned away from him and stormed down the hall way to get away from him as quickly as possible.

Freud stood still as he watched Shiro walk away. A smile twitched at his lips."Poor, boy." he said to himself softly. "You really are in denial."